Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 231, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 February 1929 — Page 14

PAGE 14

.SHE BLAGK PIGEOW 1929 By NEA Service. Inc, gc/ ANNE AUSTIN

CHAPTER Xlll—(Continued) “No, she didn't get ofT till the rush was over. Musta been about a quarter past one. Mr. Hayward was waitin’ for her at the elevator. He usually goes down in Otto’s car, on the other side, but when he’s get. a date with Miss Lester—” “All right, Moran,” McMann interrupted. "Mr. Hayward was waiting for her and they got in the elevator about 1:15—” “One-twenty,” Ruth corrected. “I had looked at my watch several times, as I knew I was keeping Mr. Hayward waiting. Mr. Bqrden had to sign some letters before I could leave, and Mr. Adams stayed until after one.” "All right—l:2o.” McMann accepted the correction and made a note of the time. “Anything unusual happen as the couple went down In your elevator, Moran? Did Miss Lester or Mr. Hayward seem upset or worried, or anything out of the ordinary?” Micky considered. Then his face lighted up. "Gees! Guess I did most of the talkin’, boss. I just couldn't get. over how different Miss Lester looked, and I kept tellin’ her so—” “Different?” McMann pounced. “Was she crying, or pale?” “Gees, no! She was lookin’ swell! If I hadn’t seen her when she went out on an errand in the middle of the momin’, and spoke to me so's I’d recognize her, I'd never aknowed her. honest! Like I told her, she looked like a movie star, only sweller. And I said to Mr. Hayward I had to hand it to him—he could pick a winner that anybody else woulda passed up.” McMann knit his brows in a puzzled frown. “I’m afraid I can’t see why any one would have—‘passed up’ Miss Lester, Moran. What do you mean?” tt tt tt e'T'HE elevator operator chuckled. A “If you'd a-seen her Friday or any day before that, boss! Hair all slicked back tight so’s; her ears showed, and great big yellow spectacles over them swell blue lamps of hers, and old-fashioned clothes that looked like they come from the Salvation Army. Guess she was disguised so’s ‘Handsome Harry’ wouldn’t make no passes at her.” “I see!” McMann commented dryly, his narrowed eyes flicking from Ruth to the angry, tightlipped man to whom she was engaged. “And this amazing transformation had taken place for the first time on Saturday, Moran?” “It wasn’t no transformation. It’s her own hair. Any guy with half an eye could see that! She’d just had it slicked back tight till Saturday,” Micky corrected indignantly. McMann had been answered. In the utter stillness of the room the tap-tapping of the detective’s pencil upon the edge of the dead man’s desk sounded as loud as hammer blows. Then suddenly McMann spoke, and his w-ords were directed to Ruth Lester: “Twice this morning you've used the phrase, ’until the day of his death.’ Borden, you said twice,

Common Bridge Errors AND HOW TO CORRECT THEM

43. SELECTING WRONG SUIT TO BE ESTABLISHED North (Dummy)— A75 4 3 06 4 2 * 10 8 EastLeads A 2 South (Declarer) A A Q <5 Q J 10 6 OAK Q 0 XA K 3 The Bidding—South bids notrump and all pass. Deciding the Play—West leads 2 of spades, which is won by Declarer with queen of spades. What suit should Declarer now play?

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Harry Blaine's prophecy to Crystal Hathaway—“ You’ll soon wake up out of this nightmare, honey”— did not come true quite so soon as he had expected. fn fact, for an anxious five days those who haunted the hospital waiting room for bulletins on the girl's condition feared that Crystal never would wake up. When Harry Blaine returned to Peter Holliday's shack that Wednesday night, after making his three telephone calls—to the hospital at Darrow, since it was the nearest; to the police and to Bob Hathaway —be found that his patient had *c: k into a fever stupor. Her stertorous breathing told him as plainly as a doctor's diagnosis could have done that pneumonia had developed. As soon as he had seen the unconscious girl made as comfortable as possible in a private room of the Darrow city hospital, the young reporter, who had kicked ethics aside to protect a friend from everlasting disgrace, hurried back, as fast as he could drive, to Peter Holliday’s shack. Although Stanton was seventy-five miles away and Darrow twentyfive. the police had had time to arrive from Stanton before Harry could return from the hospital. He found the two-room shack and the surrounding grounds alive with uniformed men, plainclothes detectives headed by Maguire, and sheriffs from both Darrow and Marlboro county, of which Stanton was the county seat.

had been a considerate employer—’until the day of his death ’ But—what about the day of his death, Miss Lester?” Every vestige of color left Ruth's cheeks and lips, but her blue eyes were steady as she answered: “I meant, of course, until and including the day of his death.” McMann rose slowly from the desk and strolled toward the girl, towering over her as he summed up: “You feared the effect of your beauty on a man like ‘Handsome Harry’ Borden. “You wore a sort of disguise to keep him from wanting you. Saturday, happy in your engagement to Mr. Hayward, you left off your disguise of homeliness and let Borden see what he’d been missing. He made love to you, just as Mr. Hayward feared he would—” “Mr. Hayward!” Ruth repeated indignantly. “He, himself didn't know I was any prettier than I seemed until Friday night after we became engaged! It never occurred to him that Mr. Borden —” “But he gave you an automatic pistol to protect yourself against a man who was notorious where women were concerned,” McMann interrupted sharply. “And Saturday, when Borden saw you as you really are, you were glad you had that means of protecting yourself, weren’t you, Miss Lester?” “Gees!” Again Micky Moran's awed exclamation shattered a moment of intolerable suspense. “You didn’t shoot him when you come back, did you, Miss Lester? . . . Gees! A little frail like that, and a big guy like him!” And Micky’s wholly admiring eyes popped from Ruth to Borden’s body and back. “When she came pack?” McMann repeated triumphantly. “Suppose you tell me all about Miss Lester's return to the office, Moran.” Ruth’s blue eyes were so piteous with fear and frantic appeal that the elevator operator flushed and stammered as he began his story. But Ruth’s terror was not for herself. . . . CHAPTER XIV “CHE come right back up. I heard ij her tell Mr. Hayward she’d forgot her bank book, and aw, gees, boss, I didn’t mean nothing by what I said,” Micky Moran protested unhappily. “Honest, she couldn’t akilled him! Why, boss, you only gotta take one look at Miss Ruth to see she wouldn’t hurt a fly—” “Stick to your stoiy, Moran!” McMann barked. “Miss Lester came right back up to her office, you say. Mr. Hayward with her?” “Naw, she told him to wait for her in the lobby, and he did. I took her up and was gonna hold the car for her, but I got a signal from the fifth floor and had to shoot down again. Mr. Hayward was walking up and down in the lobby nervous-like, and looked awful worried when he saw I hadn’t brought Miss Lester down with me. Pretty soon—” “How long?” “Oh, four or five minutes, I guess, maybe six or seven. I dunno,” Micky protested miserably. “Hon-

;Y W. W. WENTWORTH-

The Error—Declarer plays diamond suit and the game is sacrificed. The Correct Method—Declarer should first play the heart suit to force ace of hearts and king of hearts. Opponents will be forced to discard on the next heart trick and they may discard a diamond thereon, with the result that when the diamond suit is thereafter played, four tricks w r ill be made in diamonds. m Played in this manner, game must be made. By playing the diamond suit first, Declarer will in all probability make not more than eight tricks. The Principle—When holding ace-king-queen-x in closed hand and x x x in Dummy or vice versa, postpone playing this suit until you have obtained a discard in that suit. (Copyright, 1929, Ready Reference Publishing Cos.)

“Hello, Maguire!” Harry greeted the Stanton detective who had been put in charge of the case on Wednesday, after Bob Hathaway had turned over his ransom letter to the police. “I've just come from the hospital. Took her to Darrow. Mighty sick girl. I'm afraid. Unconscious now.” “Can’t talk, I guess?” Maguire scowled, as he stood studying the litter of magazines, writing materials and dishes on the table in the middle of the main room of the shack. “But you said you got some sort of story out of her. Any description of the kidnapers?” “There was only one and Crystal did not see him,” Harry hastened to inform the detective for whose ability he had vast respect—and fear. now. “She was blindfolded from the time she stepped into the room and was seized by the man who'd broken in here and was making the shack his temporary home ” “Wait!” Maguire interrupted sharply. “She wasn't kidnaped then? She asked to be admitted?” “If you put it like that. I don’t suppose she actually was kidnaped,” Harry Blaine admitted, with a marvelous imitation of reluctance “She was held a prisoner here, though. “Too bad she never got a glimpse of the scoundrel's face. I’m afraid, chief, you haven’t much to go on. But I'll tell you all I know—w'hat little the poor kid was able to tell me.” (To Be Continued.)

est, I dunno! Mr. Hayward kept draggin’ out his watch and lookin’ at it, then finally he rushed into my car and told me to shoot up to the eleventh floor. “We was nearly there when the seventh floor signal flashed on, and there Miss Lester was, breathin’ hard, like she’d been runnin’ and tears in her eyes—” “Tears!” McMann interrupted. “You're sure of that. Moran?” “Sure!” the boy affirmed eagerly. “She’d banged her head against the door and hui't her lip. She was holdin’ her handkerchief up to it, and when Mr. Hayward pulled her hand down I could see her lip was swellin’ up and gettin’ red. Mr. Hayward thought ’Handsome Harry’ done it and was raisin’ an awful roughhouse, but—” “Just what did Mr. Hayward say, Moran?” McMann interrupted. “Gee, dunno! Somepin about killin’ Borden for hurtin’ her—just like any guy’d say if he thought—” “Stick to your story, Moran!” McMann commanded cyrtly. “Tell me exactly what happened. What Hayward said, what Miss Lester said, what they did.” Micky stuck out his lower lip sullenly. “Gee. I'm tryin’ to ain’t I? Mr. Hayward started toward Borden’s office and Miss Ruth swung onto him and held him back. She told him it wasn’t ’Handsome Harry’ that had hurt her lip, said she’d banged it on the door, like I told you. And she said if Mr. Hayward wouldn’t believe her, she'd take back the promise she'd made him.” tt tt a M 'MANN'S pencil tapped an ominous accompaniment to the slow, painful beating of Ruth’s heart. Finally she could stand that slow tapping no longer. She stepped toward the desk. “Please, Mr. McMann! I ask you to believe me when I say that I didn’t see Mr. Borden, when I returned to my office to look for my savings bank book. The door between the offices was closed, and Mr. Borden was talking over the telephone.” McMann looked up at her from under beetling brows. “And I'm to believe, too, that you spent from four to six minutes looking for your bank book?” “I did! I had filed it in Mr. Borden's bank folder by mistake, instead of in the folder I use for my personal papers. I looked everywhere before it occurred to me that I had done so. I tell you, I didn’t see Mr. Borden, that my lip was bruised against the door when I swung it open. I was in a hurry' to rejoin Mr. Hayward—” “Moran, your car was down at the main floor all the time you were waiting for Miss Lester, wasn’t it? You couldn't have heard a shot if one had been fired on the seventh floor? Or did you hear one?” “I didn't hear no shot!” Micky Moran denied emphatically. “Aren’t you forgetting. McMann, that Mrs. Borden has already told of seeing Mr. Borden alive at twenty minutes of two?” Jack Hayward interrupted, his voice quivering with anger. “I’m not forgetting anything, Hayward thanks!” McMann grinned crookedly. “If you want to know, here are three things I’m not forgetting: First, that you had given Miss Lester a gun ‘to protect herself against Borden’s advances, if he ever took a fancy to your girl. Second, that everything points to the conclusion that Miss Lester’s changed appearance had just the effect on ‘Handsome Harry’ Borden you had feared it would. “Third, that SSOO in cash—the exact amount of Mrs. Borden’s separation allowance—is missing from Borden’s body. Get my point?” “I’m afraid I don't!” Jack retorted furiously. “All right, if I have to spell it out in words of one syllable! Miss Lester comes back for her bank book. Borden is alone, hears her return, comes out, tries to kiss her, does kiss her so hard that her lip is bruised. "She struggles with him, manages to reach her desk, gets out her gun, holds him off with it, until he backs into his private office—” tt tt - tt TACK HAYWARD laughed abruptid* ly, sarcastically. “I was wonderi ing how you were going to get him back in here!” “Is that so?” McMann almost snarled. “Any man’ll back up if a [gun’s leveled at his heart; She gets him in here and thinks she's safe, | but he starts for her again, knowS ing she's afraid of the gun, doesn't | think she'll have the nerve to shoot I it. He starts after her again and she lets him have it. “She sticks the gun in the pocket of her fur coat and tears out of the office, crying and panting for breath. You meet her at the elevator. She forcibly restrains you from pounding on Borden's door, to make him let you in to beat him up—because she knows he’s already dead!” Jack laughed again, harshly. “I didn't know a detective could have such a sense of humor, McMann! Again I remind you that Mrs. Borden came here about twelve minutes after Miss Lester had left the building for the day and found her husband —” “Dead!” McMann interrupted. “Why not? She didn't report the murder because she was afraid to, afraid she'd be accused of it. The body was still warm, you know. “And she needed that SSOO she found on him when she was feeling his heart to see if he was really dead. She knew well enough that the check he’d written for her and left on his desk was nothing but a scrap of paper, since he was dead.” “And why did Mrs. Borden close the window, McMann?” Jack asked. “For the same reason that made her come there this morning,” McMann retorted. “Because she loved her husband. No wife who loved her husband would want a January wind blowing in upon him, even if he was dead and unable to feel it. And knowing he was dead, she came here this morning to claim his body. . . . (To Be Continued)

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Every night at 12 Grizel used to set ouTon the Jy mile and a half to the church where her father hid the family burying vault. 9he faced the hazard of discovery by the soldiers and the danger of being accosted by poachers or country people in the dark. 7nere were neighbors with prying eyes, and dogs that chased her, but she remained loyal. V* NEAJlwmaj! Swc<*> • < T* W* *

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SKETCHES BY BLSSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BKALCULB

In the hole they placed a big box with bedding, and Sir Patrick hid himself in the new sanctuary. Then water drained into the hole and it was impossible to stay there. Sir Patrick determined to flee the country, < and Grizel helped to alter his clothes that he might look ■ like a peasant and get safeiy away. pMdm and Synopm. Copyright, IW7, Tt< Crt*jr Sxxtj. (To Be Continued) X

FEB. 14, 1929

—lsy Williams

—tsv Martin

Bv Blnsser

By (’nine

By Small

By Cowan